


I Bring Hell With Me

by writing1swat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark, Dark Sam Winchester, Gen, Hell, M/M, Post Season 3, Twisted, canon violence, divergence of seasons 4 & 5, multi-chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:21:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5337296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing1swat/pseuds/writing1swat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post season 3: Dean dies and wakes up back on earth...or so he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is multi-chaptered, and it will just get darker as the story progresses.

Dean wakes up in a white room. He can't move either his arms or legs and it's hard to breathe. For a second, he panics and struggles on the bed before his eyelids feel heavy and he has to close his eyes. He hears noises somewhere to the right of him before he falls under to the drugs in his system.

Dean hears movement near him before he is fully conscious to the world. He opens a bleary eye to see someone sitting on the visitor chair by the door. It looks vaguely like Sam but that can't be, right? Last he remembered, he was Hellhound chow. He died. Sam had been screaming and crying and this couldn't be right.

But Sam says, "Hey, Dean." And that's Sammy's voice. He can recognize that voice anywhere.

He's awake as can be now. Dean wants to sit up and look his brother in the eyes just to make sure he isn't imagining all this but he still doesn't have all his strength. Sam must see something in his expression then because suddenly he's right by Dean's side and telling him in a hushed voice not to try and get up, to not strain himself because Dean is still recovering and Dean groans as the feelings finally start to catch up with him and wonder why Sam couldn't have warned him before he tried to sit up because god did that hurt now.

It takes him a moment for what Sam is telling him to sink in. Recover from what? Isn't Dean dead? Dean could have sworn the Hellhounds killed him. Sam isn't a mind reader, however, and Dean is too tired to try and talk so they stay next to each other until Dean closes his eyes again. 

The next time Dean wakes up, he sees Sam talking with the doctor. He still feels weak but he isn't as sleepy so he takes a moment to examine himself. He sluggishly moves an arm to his chest. He's wearing a hospital gown and underneath are bandages tightly wrapped around his lower abdomen. 

Dean lets out a small sigh. It hurts all over but he's alive. By some miracle Dean is alive. Sam comes in with the doctor. The doctor doesn't say a word, just looks over Dean. He touches Dean's gown, checks over the bandages. Dean finds it a little odd that the doctor leaves afterwards and doesn't acknowledge Dean. Sam is the one who relays Dean's injuries to him.

When Dean asks why the doctor doesn't tell Dean his condition Sam just shrugs and says, "It's been a busy day." 

Dean wants to protest further but Sam shakes his head, bends down and presses a finger to Dean's lips. "Go to sleep, Dean. You're tired and still recovering."

For some reason, the protest dies in Dean's throat and he is suddenly feeling exhausted. Dean closes his eyes.

When Dean wakes up again, he's in the Impala. He's not driving. Sam is. His head hurts and his chest still aches from where the Hellhound scratches are still healing. Sam glances at him for a moment before focusing back on driving. Dean asks how long he's been out for.

Sam answers, "Few days."

Dean rubs his head, trying to let his brother's answer sink in. When it does, he snaps his head back up to stare at Sam like he's grown a second head. "Few days?" He repeats.

Sam nods. "Wasn't waiting in a hospital, Dean. I know how you are with them. You're just like Dad in the sense that you both can't sit still. You'd have been begging me to get you released within the first week." He laughs, lost in a past memory Dean doesn't remember.

Dean is bewildered. Something is wrong here and Dean can't exactly pinpoint it. Sam is different. He isn't acting like the little brother Dean has gotten to know in the past couple years. And it's scaring Dean.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" Dean asks carefully. 

Sam smiles. "I'm fine, Dean." His expression quickly turns concerned as he looks at Dean through the mirror. "What about you? How's your stomach?"

Dean looks back down at his bandages and says, "It ain't too bad. Really. I've had worse." Sort of. Not really. Dean is supposed to be dead. Which leads him to the question Dean has wondered about since he woke up. "How'd I survive the Hellhounds anyway? I thought that was it, end of the line." He looked back at Sam, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I made a deal, Sammy."

"I know," Sam replies. Sam's knuckles are white as he clutches the steering wheel. He turns on the radio and Dean winces as one of Dad's old cassettes blasts his ears. "You were supposed to, but you didn't." Dean wants to protest but Sam continues, "Relax, Dean. I'll tell you later but for now, just do me a favor and shut up."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some complications in life now (moving and such), I'm typing these out on my phone so they won't be as long chapters as before. Not until I can get my own laptop.

Dean is walking down a dark hallway. It's eerily quiet and Dean can't see anybody around. The lights are dimly lit and there's a chill that has Dean shivering. He isn't wearing anything but a white tee, shorts and some old pair of socks. The doors to both sides of Dean don't have numbers on them and are all closed. He wants to open one just to see what's inside, just a tiny peek. But a small voice inside Dean's head says, "Not yet." 

Dean reaches the end of the hallway. The door is open a crack. Dean can stick his foot in if he wants to.

The voice in his head pipes up, "Now. Do it. Go in, Dean." The door creaks open and Dean steps inside.

And jerks awake. It's a dream. A vivid dream and Dean can remember every little detail. He's still in the Impala. Sam is still driving. Music is still on, though it isn't rock that is blasting from the radio. Dean doesn't recognize the song that's playing but Sam is humming it under his breath, tapping his fingers to the beat on the wheel. Dean has to hold in the urge to roll his eyes because of course it would be one of Sam's music. It's a country song, that's all Dean can guess. 

Sam grins as Dean moves in his seat to get more comfortable. "Welcome back to the land of the living, brother."

Dean flinches at the word 'living'. Sam isn't going to get away without a full explanation this time. "Sammy, mind if I ask you what actually happened? When I was dead. Really. Because that's what I remembered. I made a deal and nobody's ever been able to successfully avoid their end. I mean I was monster food. I died. I couldn't have avoided that...right? Or else the deal wouldn't have gone through and they'd have revoked your jail free card. But we're both still here. Far from not dead as possible." Dean takes a deep breath and waits for Sam to answer. He hates waiting. The clock ticks and Sam's mouth stays firmly shut. He doesn't look at Dean. The grin has long since faded and Dean's mind begins to wander.

There's one only other option he can see that can end with both Winchesters alive and in the Impala and Dean is not happy when the realization hits him. He sits back and says, "Sam, you did not do what I think you did. Please tell me you did not..."

Sam says nothing.

Dean sighs, "You made another deal, didn't you?"

This time Dean is met with a shrug. Sam slouches over, shaggy hair covering his face, looking like a kid who's been reprimanded. "I was gonna be alone, Dean. What else could I have done?" Sam's voice is small, child-like.

Every fiber of Dean's being is telling him to forgive and comfort his brother because no matter what Sam does, he's still Dean's little brother.

But what Sam did was the opposite of what Dean had wanted for his brother. It takes almost all of Dean's strength to shove that side of him down. Dean clenches his hands into fists, then unclenches them.

Sam must have felt the shift in Dean because he suddenly tenses and says, "Look...I know you're mad, Dean. But just listen for a minute, just..."

He trails off and Dean doesn't wait anymore. He's mad and beyond frustrated and worried, worried as hell. He doesn't want to be alive if it means Sam's taking his spot. He breathes deeply, in then out and tries to cool off a little before he asks what has been on his mind since he realized what Sam has done. "How long?"

Sam doesn't say anything for a moment, focused on the darkened road. Dean turns the music off and says, "How long do you have, Sammy?"

Sam says quietly, "Few months now."

Dean leans back, a hand on his forehead, and sighs. Of freaking course.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean's head is spinning. He doesn't get it. Sam is supposed to be the one alive, not Dean. He's not supposed to go around making deals for his brother. That's Dean's job. Protecting Sam at all costs. Even at the cost of Dean's life - definitely at the cost of Dean's life. Dean looks out the window. It is dark and Dean has no idea where Sam is going, where he's taking him. And he doesn't very well care. Not at this point. Dean just feels like a failure. He can't look his brother in the eyes without feeling like he failed Sam somehow. Because he did. Sam, after all, is now in the same position Dean had been. He traded his life for Dean's. And that's wrong, all wrong.

"Few months, huh?" It comes out as bitter words because Dean is bitter. He's mad as hell and annoyed and disappointed and bitter. But not at Sam. Never at Sam. He should have prevented this somehow.

Sam shrugs and says, "Yeah. Few months." He grows quiet after that, for a moment. Then he says, "But it isn't exactly what you're thinking, Dean."

Dean wants to laugh at that. Not what he's thinking? "Then what is it?"

Sam doesn't explain. In fact he doesn't say anything else. Hours later, they're both sick and tired of each other's company and Sam finally finds a motel to pull up to. Sam ends up getting a room with two queens, and Dean thinks, bitterly, 'Just like old times.'

Sam's lips curve into a slight smile, like Dean said it out loud. Dean turns away before he can start grinning back. Damn but the kid can be contagious when he really wanted to be.

Dean lays on his back in the second bed. He can hear Sam getting settled into the first. Dean's tired. He had slept most of the car ride but that didn't seem to be enough. He tries to remember beyond the car ride but every time he draws up blank. The past week is a huge blur. Dean only remembers Sam. 

Dean frowns up at the ceiling. He feels dizzy all of a sudden. His head starts to hurt. His eyelids feel heavy and Dean's having a hard time focusing, let alone staying conscious. Then suddenly Sam is looming over him. He bends over and puts a hand on Dean's cheek. Dean wants to protest but he can't move his mouth. Sam caresses Dean's face. The gesture is soft and soothing and Dean doesn't understand what's happening to him. His eyes start to close. It takes almost all of Dean's own willpower to stay awake. 

Sam leans over more, 'til their faces are just inches apart. Dean almost misses the red flicker in Sam's eyes. It's impossibly there for barely a second and Sam says, "Just go to sleep now, Dean."

And for some reason, Dean does as he's commanded.

He's in the same hallway as earlier. Dean knows he's dreaming this time. He walks to the end with determination to see what is in the last room. He had gotten so close before. Dean reaches the room at the end of the hall. He doesn't wait for the little voice in his head to give him the ok to open it. Dean's curiosity gets the better of him and he swings the door open to find a darkened room. It looks almost familiar.

Dean steps inside and looks around. He recognizes the two queens, the window, the small TV. It's the motel room Sam and Dean were staying in. Sam is in fact sitting on the bed, looking at Dean expectantly. Watching him. Waiting.

For what?

"Sit, Dean."

Dean blinks in surprise, looks to take a seat on the bed. Sam repeats, "Sit," before Dean can move. Without thinking, Dean sits where he stood. Cross legged on the floor. Sam smiles. There's something a little off about dream Sam that Dean can't place. "Good boy."

Something about Sam just makes Dean uncomfortable. His eyes seem to flicker red. Dean blinks. It's gone. 

Later, Dean wakes up to music and Sam cooking up eggs in the small motel kitchen. He's sweaty and Dean thinks he may have had a nightmare that night that somehow involved his brother but he can't be sure because the details are all blurred together in his head.

Sam announces, "Breakfast is ready, Dean!" a moment later.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam has been acting a little off the next few days. Dean can't exactly place it but Sam just...doesn't act like Sam. Not the way Dean remembers his brother before the...the hounds. He doesn't understand it. He tries, tries really hard but each memory seems to slip by him and it all just makes Dean even more frustrated. Sam...he's Sam, definitely, but there's something missing that Dean feels like that should be there. And it's right there, sitting in front of Dean, right under his nose, just out of his grasp. Sam is Sam, yet not. Is that even possible?

Day eight is weird for Dean. Sam wakes him up way too early for Dean's liking. He tries to shove the arms attached to him in a fruitless attempt to stop the shaking. Sam continues until Dean blearily opens one eye. He looks at the clock to the side of him. It's six in the morning. Dean wants to go back to bed but Sam jumps on this chance like a lion on its prey and Dean is on the floor in only boxers, stunned as to what has happened. 

Sam just grins and says, "Get in the car, Dean. We've got a long day ahead of us."

Sam apparently has everything figured out from that point on because it's day fourteen and he's pretty sure they're living out Sam's dream. Sam has a house, backyard with white picket fence all around it, a dog Sam apparently rescued on his way home from work the other day...everything is 'normal'. Not the normal Dean's accustomed to because they'd be out hunting monsters and picking off where Dad left off. No, normal by Sam's definition.

It's five in the evening and Dean's waiting at the dinner table. Every now and then he finds himself looking up at the grandfather clock Sam bought at a thrift store. He's anxious, feeling ready to jump out of his skin every time that thing ticks. Dean's not accustomed to just sitting and waiting. He doesn't like this new routine Sam has developed where his brother goes to work and Dean gets to sit at home and wait for him. At first, Dean thought it was a joke. 

Nice on, Sammy. You got me good. Now let's hit the road and crack down on some cases. Come on, Sam, man. We're wasting time. People aren't gonna save themselves from monsters, now, are they?

But Sam hadn't budged, hadn't cracked a smile, just stood his ground against Dean and repeated his perfect plan. Dean was getting less and less convinced his brother was joking as hours passed by and Sam's facade was still just as strong as when he told Dean. Finally, as night fell, and Sam was still singing the same tune from that morning, Dean cracked. 

Originally, Dean thought he'd have to resign himself to the idea he'd have to leave his brother behind if Sam was really this serious about settling down...because honestly, was Dean even cut out for the apple pie life? He loved his brother, loved him a lot, maybe a little too much...but enough to sit in one place and play house with Sam?

Apparently, yes. Because here he sits, going out of his mind with boredom, freaking out over the littlest sounds. All for Sam. He tried to entertain the thought of leaving his brother to go back to the hunting life. Well that lasted for all of a couple hours.

Sam comes back home every day at five thirty. Dean doesn't know what Sam does for work. Sam never says and Dean never thought to ask. Lately, his mind has been on other stuff, like how he's alive when he shouldn't be, what exactly Sam's deal entails, when the deal comes to an end. Sam for his part seems content to waste his days away living the life he's wanted since childhood.

Dean has been a protector for so long, somehow he's forgotten what it's like to be vulnerable. Sam gets back from work looking exhausted and happy. He's greeted at the door by an excited golden retriever dubbed as Einstein and a relieved and equally happy older brother. Dean grabs Sam into a tight hug and he feels like he's close to crying.

He's not sure what has brought this on and he hopes Sam doesn't notice because he probably won't hear the end of it if Sam catches him. Dean rubs at his face before he lets go. If Sam found his actions at all curious, his face doesn't show. 

Sam asks the usual questions: "How was your day?" "Anything interesting happen?" "What's for dinner?" "What's the plan for tomorrow?"

To which Dean answers with the usual: "It went ok." "Nothing happened, no, just another boring day, sorry." "Chicken. You up for chicken tonight? Or I can cook something different real quick." "Probably sitting back, watching some TV, catching up on old shows, you know...the usual."

If Sam's gonna play house for the remainder of his deal, Dean figures he owes him to at least play along.

Unfortunately the peace doesn't last. But when you're a Winchester, do you really expect it to?

Day twenty-two comes faster than Dean can think. He's been so busy caught up in Sam's world that he doesn't count down the days anymore.

Sam's been out of the house most of the day. Dean's making burgers out on the grill. It's a nice day out, sunny, no clouds, warm. Ideal for grilling so that's what Dean's been doing. With staying home all the time now, Dean's been catching up on a hobby he has always loved, and has a knack for: cooking.

Einstein's chilling in the shade under a tree a few feet away, content in observing Dean from afar. Dean's been getting better at this, with the normal stuff. He isn't as jumpy as the first day anymore. He's caught himself several times letting his guard down even just momentarily when he watches Netflix with Einstein.

Dean sniffs the air. The meat on the grill smells good. He's pretty proud of his cooking skills. Dean's sure in another lifetime he probably would've pursued becoming a chef. Everyone thinks Dean's just good at fixing cars, and sure he is and he loves working on the Impala, but he loves cooking too. He just never really got a chance to cook as much on the road.

Sam comes back at exactly five thirty. Dean's already prepared and set everything up by then. However, instead of asking the usual questions Dean's already prepared to answer, Sam eats in silence, his eyes never coming off his food.

Dean blinks, surprised, because usually Sam never shuts up at the dinner table. The silence is uncomfortable and Dean wonders how he's so accustomed to their weird nightly ritual without even fully realizing until something was amiss. Dean waits a few minutes to see if Sam will say anything. 

He doesn't. He doesn't even look up from his plate the entirety of dinner. Dean shifts uncomfortably. He wants to say something, anything, but every time he's on the edge of asking how Sam's day went, he chickens out. He can't understand why. He's not normally this much of a wuss, but for some reason, he keeps thinking it just wouldn't seem right if he started the conversation. It's supposed to start with Sam and if it doesn't go that way, it feels wrong. The thought is so uncharacteristic of Dean that Dean, himself, is weirded out he even thought that.

Is he so accustomed to their daily lives, their daily rituals here, that Dean would feel uncomfortable if something went differently? Dean squashes the thought down because honestly, that's beginning to panic him. He told himself he was only playing house for Sam before his time ran out, then he is going to go back to hunting, because that is what Dean has always done, will always do.

Dinner ends with Sam putting his dish in the sink with no eye contact made to Dean. Dean is left slightly shaken but he goes to do the dishes. He misses the smirk on Sam's face as he turns away, the flash of red in his eyes.

The nightmares start up on day twenty five.

Dean's in the motel room at the end of the hallway. He is forced to kneel in front of a monster with horns and fangs and red eyes and blackened wings. Lucifer.

One random thought passes through his mind, a single, beyond absurd name: Sam. He wakes up the next day in a tangle of sheets, hot and sweaty, knowing he had a nightmare the previous night but remembering nothing beyond that. His heart races and Dean wishes he could remember what his nightmare was about.


End file.
